Venezia with the Ladies

Yesteray Meredith, the resident get-your-ass-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn girl, woke me up at 5:00 a.m. I rolled over and told her to go away, I was up. An hour later we headed off to the train station at Santa Maria Novella and caught the train to Venice.

It was Me, Mayo, Meridith, Court and Haley. Five fabulous donnas all ready to hit the ancient city. The train ride down was rather long, and we had to transfer at Bologna. The train from Bologna to Venice was extremely crowded. We were standing, trying to find seats and noticed that all these old folks had their stuff in the seats next to them. They saw us, standing there, waiting to sit down, and did not offer to remove their crap. We had to ask them several times if we could sit down before they even acknowledged us. Yes we are American, but we bought a ticket to, you smelly old snobs. We ended up sitting at different places within the car. Meredith had the unfortunate circumstance to sit next to a woman who, as she puts it, made it her life-goal not to shower or bathe. Apparently evertime she moved, a stench would emmenate from her self, and make Meredith nautious. I was very thankful I sat next to Courtney, who I knew had showered that morning and was devoid of stank.

We rolled into Venice around 10. It was incredibly bright and blinding outside. Court and I opted to get our faces painted in the spirit of Carnevale. She got this nice, plaisley like green swirly gig on the side of her face. I, on the other hand, had the side of my face covered in pink lip gloss, and subsequently doused in glitters of every color. Silver, bronze, gold, green and red. It looked like a drag queen giraffe had been painted on my cheek, with the neck extending up along the bridge of my nose and the head being on my forehead. I was so bright with the sun reflecting off my glittery face, that I gave everyone who was around me a sunburn.

Venice was Wonderful. When we got there it was empty and we had the place to ourselves. The streets are very narrow, Rachel-scaled. You come out of a narrow street, and pow, a small canale, or to be exact, a rio. All the buildings are covered in a kinda black stuff, from being around the water. But it wasn't like I had heard. Everyone had complained that it was smelly and filthy. I found the opposite. It smelt like the ocean -- that brackish salty smell. And the dirtiness was just from being around the water. The canals were impeccibly clean, as were the streets. I loved every moment of the day.

We wondered the streets and eventually found San Marco... the world of tamed pigeons. It was awesome. I had remarked to Courtney, who makes fun of my strange obsession with pigeons, that all the little birds in Venice were very fat. Well, San Marco is why they are so well-fed. People grab crackers or cookies or buy bags of corn seed to feed to the pigeons. We took all the snack food we had, crushed them in our hands and sprinkled the crumbs on our sleeves. Instantaneously, pigeons fly up and perch on your arms, shoulders, even head and eat. It wasn't gross... we even got Haley to do it. They were very soft, with these little warm bellies and warm little feet. They would even make noises when they landed on you - little cooing sounds. We did this for about an hour. And we made it out poop-free.

There were alot of Veneitans dressed in old period outfits... gowns and of course, the trademark masks. Vendors lined the streets and Grand Canale, selling souvenirs and lots of glittery disguises. Carnevale was supposed to be going on, but we think it's more of anight thing. It was mostly people just wondering around enjoying the sun.

Probably the best thing we did was rent a Gondola. Best Ever. It was 100 euro for a five person hour ride and it was worth every cent. Our gondola man looked like Billy Bob Thornton, but not as freaky, and he gave us a little history of Venice as we went. Going through the small canals was special, as it was very quiet compared to the streets that were filled with foot traffic. Our gondola man knew everyone too -- the construction workers, the other boat men, people on the streets. Mayo bent over to look in river under the Bridge of Sighs and she lost her sunglasses. We all sighed in sympathy, but it was okay, they were cheapos- easily replaced. We passed the birthplace of Marco Polo, and Casanova's residence. Just small, indiscreet buildings along the way. It was an amazing ride that we did not want to end. I can see how Venice is said to be romantic. I mean, I was with 5 ladies, but it was a great date none-the-less.

At around 5, we decided to go home. We had been walking for 7 hours straight, after all. If you can get there, go to Venice. It was definitely worth all those griping italians on the train ride there.